


Almost Asleep, Nearly Awake

by fractalficlets (fractalgeometry)



Series: Hugtober 2020 [14]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comfort, Cuddles, Hugs, M/M, Other, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalficlets
Summary: Everything can feel strange and worrying when you're half-asleep. But if it's just the person you love most, joining you for cuddles, you can let go of that, and go back to sleep.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Hugtober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952887
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	Almost Asleep, Nearly Awake

**Author's Note:**

> I've been planning to write one of these involving sleepy cuddles for a while, and when I sat down today, I started writing from the perspective of someone who's just been woken up. I really love how this one turned out, and I look forward to hearing what you all think.

Footsteps.

The sound of a door opening.

Where was he? What was happening?

The ground he was lying on moved.

Soft. It was soft.

A hand rested on his side, lightly, gently. The ground — no, the bed, it was a bed, he was lying in bed — moved again. Arms slid around his waist. He caught one of the soft hands as it came in front of him, pressing it between his own. 

A whisper, then, barely a huff of breath, shushing, soothing. The moving air caught his hair, danced through it. He pressed his shoulders back, finding another body behind him, a familiar one. Trusted. Loved.

Aziraphale shuffled closer, face pressing into Crowley’s hair, chest against Crowley’s back, arms tightening, just a little, just enough to comfort, to keep them close together.

“Shhh,” he said again, softly, gently. “Go back to sleep, love. It’s just me. We’re home.”

The footsteps were just Aziraphale. The door, the movement, the touch, they were all Aziraphale. Crowley was in bed, in their home, safe. Protected. 

He let go of the thread of consciousness that had spun into being at the sound of footsteps, relinquished the tension that had coalesced with the opening of the door. Aziraphale’s breath blew gently through his hair, Aziraphale’s arms encircled him. 

Crowley’s fingers slackened around Aziraphale’s, not letting go, not moving away, but loosening to cup instead of to grip. He relaxed back into the bed.

Crowley let go of the thread of consciousness and slept, safe in his angel’s arms.


End file.
